All the Way Home (3 of 4)

[peggy_lane]

part two | master post

three

January falls hard, bringing with it flat gray skies that settle in for days and stretch so far Jared claims he can’t remember what blue looks like. Jensen yearns for the warmth of the sun on his face, for any day not as cold and inhospitable as the ninth circle of hell. It seems he’ll have to wait.

First it sleets, and the bridge freezes over, then it snows, and the truck spins out in the slush and the mud. The wind stirs and picks up speed, catches snow in its path and lifts it from the ground to whip around like it’s got no more weight than powder. The icy flakes feel like tiny shards of glass against the skin, and Jensen is more and more reluctant to go out in it.

Most days, Jared tends the herd on his own but Jensen helps when there’s a problem. After one too many trips into the muddy banks of the creek to pull out some stuck heifer, or maybe it’s one too many dry rope burns he could avoid if he’d just wear his goddamn gloves like he should, Jensen’s so pissed he makes the calls necessary to arrange for sale of the cattle. It’s disappointing to find it’ll be another month before he can unload them all and he slams the phone down so hard it bounces back up off its cradle.

"Damn, you’re one ornery fucker when you’re riled," Jared says. Jensen turns to him and asks what bad country song he stole that line from.

Jared holds up his hands in surrender and retires to his room for the rest of that particular afternoon, muttering something about being the next victim of the purge.

But that’s just the weather. Jensen’s got other things to occupy his time and he’s not in the habit of chasing Jared away. He prefers to keep him close, within touching distance if possible.

And Jared, well, Jared is definitely the touchy-feely type. He brushes against Jensen when there’s no need, casually reaches out a hand to stroke Jensen’s arm or to palm his ass. Jensen has always preferred the kind of touch that leads directly to sex, but he finds himself leaning in to Jared’s casual displays of affection, even those that don’t lead to the bedroom.

They sometimes sit together on the couch for hours, watching television or not, just necking and…cuddling. It’s ridiculous, sure, but Jensen discovers that curling into Jared’s warm body is like burrowing into an electric blanket. It might be his new favorite thing.

He’s always been the obsessive type - work, sex, the relentless drive to prove himself somehow. If Jensen is obsessed with anything now, it’s simply the slow, agonizing thrill of taking his time. He lays Jared out, again and again, strips him bare, licks and kisses his way over Jared’s hot, responsive body, tracing paths that seem to go on for miles. He grinds against him, rubs their bodies together, makes him hard and denies him, makes him beg, then brings him off, fast and hard, slow and easy.

The afternoon after his cattle-selling meltdown, Jensen's in the driveway, working under the hood of the rickety old work truck they use to haul the feed. It hasn't run right since the last time they pushed it out of the mud down by the creek. Jensen's not much of a mechanic; he spends most of his time tightening connectors and checking wires, then cursing when nothing good comes of it.

Jared returns from replacing some fence posts in the north pasture, looking twice as big as usual in the giant winter coat his mama gave him for Christmas, and slightly ridiculous to boot. But he looks a damn sight warmer than Jensen, who's hunched against the wind in only his thick coveralls and a worn old coat that belonged to his grandfather.

Jared walks up, gives his customary ass-pat in greeting and hovers behind Jensen. He peers down at the engine for a good minute or two before Jensen looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"Can I help you?"

"No, I'm fine."

"All the jobs you've had," Jensen remarks, "and mechanic isn't on your resume."

"I know, right?"

Fucker, Jensen thinks. Cheerfully sarcastic fucker. He's both amused and annoyed, a combined response Jared seems uniquely capable of inspiring. Jensen turns his attention back to the truck as Jared walks around to lean against it.

"So, come February, this place is going to be a ranch without any cattle," he says.

"I’ll keep Delilah a while, I guess," Jensen replies. He’s surprised by it himself, but he’ll miss the old girl once she’s gone.

Jared nods. "Not much use for a ranch hand if you don’t have a herd."

"You have other uses."

It’s meant as a joke, and Jared smiles, but it's obviously forced. "Yeah, but I don’t feel comfortable being paid for those particular services," he says.

Jensen pulls back and lowers the hood. It's probably about time to admit defeat anyway.

"I didn’t mean it like that."

"I know." Jared straightens up off the truck and shrugs. "Still. You could take care of this place without me as it is, but with everything coming to a close so soon…" He trails off and starts again. "You really don’t need me here, Jensen."

I do need you, Jensen thinks. He doesn’t say it.

"I’ve got something to show you," he says instead. He taps the hood of the truck lightly with his fist and heads to the house with Jared close behind. They shrug off their coats and shoes in the mud room and walk down the hall, back to the pull-down string that hangs from the ceiling. Jensen yanks it to lower the rickety wooden steps and climbs up, gesturing for Jared to follow.

At the top, Jensen pulls the chain that's attached to the sole bare yellow light bulb and illuminates the attic, which runs the entire length of the house. It’s shadowed, but obviously cluttered, full to the brim with boxes and trunks, some furniture, framed paintings and photographs that lean against the walls, their glass faces clouded with grime. Jensen coughs against the dust.

Jared whistles. "There sure is a lot of junk up here."

"There’s more where this came from," Jensen replies. "In the cellar and out in the storage shed. We never had the heart or the time to get rid of it after my grandparents died."

"And now?" Jared asks. By his tone, he knows the answer.

"I’m not going to have a choice," Jensen says. "I really do need your help to get it ready for auction."

"I figured I’d be doing that in addition to the regular ranch work."

"Well, we’ve still got those bastards out there to feed and keep from killing themselves until at least February," Jensen reminds him. "But my grandfather held onto everything. Sorting it out’s a full time job."

"You sure this isn’t just busy work?"

"I do want to keep you around for fun," Jensen says with a grin. "But I need you on this, too."

Jared exhales a genuine laugh. "You could make better use of your fun time, too."

"I don’t know. That seems to be going all right to me," Jensen says, all false modesty.

"Better than all right, but you know, I wouldn’t say no to a good, hard fuck." Jared pulls Jensen to him, kisses him sweet. "Just so we’re clear."

"Yeah, I think I got that the last hundred times you made it clear."

"But?"

"You're a big boy, Jared. There's a lot of you to explore, and I'm taking my time." Jensen reaches between them to palm Jared's erection through his jeans. "I enjoy taking my time."

Jared watches him closely, like he’s trying to decipher something. He seems reassured by what he sees because he smiles again, big and slow, and the teasing tone returns to his voice.

"Well, it’s like I always say," he drawls. "You’re the boss."

"Glad we’re clear on that."

________

Jared starts going to Dumas once a week for the Narcotics Anonymous meeting that’s held in the Rec Center’s basement. He says he doesn’t know if he’s getting anything out of it except that some of the stories he hears there make him feel better about his own situation. But he keeps going back, so Jensen thinks maybe it’s doing him some good. Jensen drives out with him to pick up groceries and run whatever other errands he has in town until Jared’s done.

They usually head out to The Keyhole afterward to shoot pool. They invite Chris, but Jeannie’s pregnancy is far enough along that he doesn’t want to risk being away from her.

Jared kicks Jensen’s ass just about every time they play. Jensen doesn’t mind. It’s fun to watch him stalk the table, twirling the cue like he’s the twenty-first century’s answer to Fast Eddie, usually hitting it against a wall or knocking over whatever bottles are in its path, until the bartender shoots him a glare. Jared charms his way out of any trouble and Jensen enjoys the show. The night usually ends with Jared slinging an arm around Jensen’s shoulders to pull him in close. But not too close. It’s still not that kind of bar.

________

The study Jensen's been anticipating finally comes through and shows the ranch to be perfectly suited for a much larger, industrial wind farm operation. Sometime between opening the email attachment and forwarding a copy to Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jensen decides to pursue the wind business full bore. It isn’t necessarily booming, and the industry as a whole isn’t without its flaws, but there’s money to be made around the margins and Jensen thinks he can present a good case for his own place at the table.

Jensen’s ready for that now, ready to be back in the thick of things, doing what he does best. It’s not because the time for introspection is done, or because he’s lonely. He’s not. But he’s a business man, not a rancher, and the idea that maybe he can do something worthwhile instead of going straight back to big oil holds a lot of appeal.

Many of the other land owners in the area are against big wind farms on principle, and over the years they’ve managed to exclude them from their small pocket of the Texas panhandle. They have legitimate concerns about the noise level and birds that fly into the turbines, not to mention the sheer bulk of the things. There are places nearby where hundreds upon hundreds of wind turbines stretch for miles like enormous tin soldiers staking their place in a field of battle. They’re a genuine eyesore to some but Jensen finds a kind of beauty in their stark efficiency.

If Morgan wants to expand business in the area beyond Jensen’s few hundred acres, he’ll need help from a local to pitch the idea to the more open-minded, and money-motivated, among the community. Jensen figures that’s all the leverage he needs and prepares to meet the man in person.

The meeting is set for the first week of February. Jensen pulls a couple of designer suits from the back of his closet and prepares for a two-night stay in Lubbock. Jared will keep an eye on the ranch and has plans to start sorting through the stuff in the attic. They say their goodbyes after breakfast with a "call me when you get there" and a soft, quick kiss for luck.

Jensen's slamming down the hood of the trunk on his grandfather's old El Dorado later in the morning when he decides on impulse that their earlier goodbye was insufficient. He spotted Jared pulling up the driveway a little after ten. If he's keeping to his routine, he's already had a quick shower and settled in for a nap before lunch. The image is hard to resist and Jensen can't think of any good reason to try.

He lets himself into Jared's room to find him sprawled out on his back, starfish style, dead to the world. Only Jared could make the king size mattress look so inadequate. His arms and the top of his broad chest are bared as well as his feet, which peek out from under an old quilt. This sleeping beauty definitely snores like a beast and Jensen rolls his eyes at the sound as he toes off his shoes and walks to the foot of the bed.

They don't sleep together often. Sometimes, they fall asleep wrapped up in one another, on the couch or in one of their beds, but they each like their own space. Sprawling, snoring Jared might just drive Jensen to violence if he had to sleep next to him every night. And Jared’s happy to retire to his room most of the time, assuming he has the energy once Jensen’s had his way.

As Jared tells it, he slept through more than one tornado warning when he was a kid, even slept through it when his dad hauled him out into a storm and down to the cellar when he was eight. He still sleeps hard, so Jensen isn't too concerned with waking him when he skims his hand over Jared's foot, skirts it underneath the quilt and up his leg. Jensen lifts the quilt and gently folds it to the side as he massages his way up Jared's calves to his thighs. He sends up a quick prayer of gratitude when he sees that Jared didn't bother with briefs.

He can only get so far from where he's standing so he drops a knee on the mattress to focus on the long slow climb up Jared's warm body. Jared sniffs and moves his head but even the added weight doesn't disturb his sleep. It's only when Jensen climbs onto the bed to position himself over Jared in a crawl that Jared finally wakes with a start.

"What?" Jared sits up quickly and runs a hand over bleary eyes.

Jensen throws him a grin and a cheesy wink before lowering his head to plant a kiss on the dimple just above Jared’s knee.

"Jensen? I thought you'd be gone already." The effects of sleep make Jared's low Texas drawl drip slow like honey.

"I was on my way out." Jensen traces a path up Jared's inner thigh with his tongue, finds a promising patch of skin and gently sucks, murmurs against him, "Decided to make a quick detour."

"But…"

"You're going to fight me on this?" Jensen asks.

"Well, when you put it like that." Jared falls back on the pillow and folds his arms behind his head. "Have your way with me if you insist."

"Such a noble sacrifice." Jensen pushes the quilt off the bed and continues his exploration of the newly claimed flesh on Jared's inner thigh, pink and warm from his mouth. He rolls his tongue over it, soft and gentle, then bites and sucks again. Jared gasps and bucks up, but Jensen pushes his hips down flat.

"You've got a real fetish for holding me down," Jared grumbles. Jensen gives him a hard little nip for that then blows warm, soothing breath over his skin.

Jared's cock curves toward his belly, big and hard. He's so gorgeous like this, miles of toned muscle and smooth, tanned skin contrasted against white cotton sheets. Jensen considers stripping down and going for something more thorough but reluctantly dismisses the thought. He figures he can give Jared a little something to remember him by and be out the door in less than ten minutes. It's not the most romantic gesture, but quick and dirty has its advantages.

Jensen slides forward and presses his mouth to Jared's balls, sucks them in gently, tonguing and humming. Jared moans in pleasure and spreads his legs farther apart.

Rising to his knees, Jensen spits on his own palm and licks a long line up his fingers. It may be a little porny, but Jensen's got no problem with that. Jared seems to approve, moans in response, and reaches down to touch himself. Jensen pushes Jared's hand away with a shake of his head.

"Bossy," Jared grinds out.

Jensen curls his spit-wet hand around Jared's cock, loves the hot and easy glide when he starts to work it. He's not gentle and Jared twists and writhes beneath him, fisting the pillow behind his head.

"That's how you like me, isn't it?" Jensen says. "Bossy. The dirtier, the better. Love my hand on your cock, want my mouth on it."

Jared's answering moan is all the yes Jensen needs. He lowers himself to swirl his tongue over the head of Jared's cock, presses it hard against the slit, picking up the taste of his own spit and Jared's pre-come. Jensen smiles and runs his tongue along the shaft, makes his way up to the tip and back down again with small licks and long strokes. He cups Jared's balls, rolls them in his fingers and gives them a gentle squeeze, then licks his way up again before finally sucking Jared into his mouth. He works the head in slow, shallow motions, tracing the ridge with his tongue, enjoying the size and weight.

Jensen curls his hand at the base of Jared's cock and works it hard while he swallows him deeper. He’s good at this, always has been, but he still has to remember to breathe, to relax his jaw and his throat so he can take more. He presses his tongue along the shaft as he moves and moans when he feels Jared's cock hit the back of his throat. His mouth fills with spit that escapes to run down his chin, sloppy and wet.

Jared's body is vibrating beneath him; Jensen can only feel the tremors, can only breathe in the scent of sleep and sex. He pulls back, lowers his head and swallows again, fast, greedy.

"I’m gonna to come," Jared manages to warn. Jensen peers up at him through moist lashes and doesn't pull away. He knows how he must look - debauched, red-faced and needy, his full, wet lips sealed around Jared's cock. "I’m gonna come in your mouth."

Jensen blinks, manages a slight nod. There's no more warning as Jared goes rigid and comes hard, his loud groan filling the room. Jensen works his throat to take it all, swallows it down and pulls back to tongue Jared's softening cock. Jared reaches for him, a clumsy jerky movement, like he's going to pull Jensen up over his body but doesn't quite have the strength to accomplish it.

It makes Jensen feel pretty smug and he chuckles as he runs the back of his hand across his mouth and chin. He steadies himself on hands and knees and makes his way up Jared, kissing the tip of his nose before dropping down in a boneless sprawl.

"Your turn," Jared says, reaching for the bulge in Jensen's pants.

"No, I'm fine," Jensen lies. He grabs Jared's hand to lace their fingers together as he resists the urge to squirm against him, his body automatically seeking the friction.

Jared laughs. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Jensen assures him. "This was for you."

"Well, thank you very much, Mr. Ackles." Jared looks at Jensen with an open, happy grin. His nose crinkles with his smile; his eyes are big and bright. "The pleasure was definitely mine."

When Jared pushes himself up to capture Jensen's mouth with his, Jensen relaxes onto it for a long, lazy kiss. This is the kind of thing that can go on far too long and Jensen pulls himself away while he still can, dips his face into the crook of Jared's neck and rests there for a minute while he gathers the strength to leave. Jared wraps his arms around Jensen, one of his typically enthusiastic bear hugs, and Jensen laughs, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

There's something like wonder in Jared's expression. His gaze roams over Jensen's face and he pushes out a breath that Jensen feels rise up from deep in his chest.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Jared says. Jensen's heard that line before, has hated it on occasion, but hearing it from Jared, all low and sincere, causes a hitch in his chest. Jensen licks his lips and considers diving back for seconds, but he musters up all the will he can to shake the moment off.

"So, you enjoyed that?" He doesn't try to hide his smirk.

"Self-satisfied, bossy, and arrogant," Jared says with a laugh. "And the bitch of it is that you earned every bit of it."

Jensen quirks a brow. "You haven't answered my question."

"Yes," Jared says. "Yes, I enjoyed it very much."

"Good." Jensen musters the energy to push himself off Jared and roll out of bed. "It's going to have to tide you over for a couple of days."

"I'll miss you, baby," Jared says as he stretches his arms over his head and rolls his neck. "But I think my hand still works."

"No," Jensen says, throwing Jared his best I mean business glare as he slips on his shoes and straightens his clothes. "You don't get to touch yourself until I say. And don't call me baby."

"Oh, come on."

"You better mind me, Jared." Jensen's tone is as serious as he can manage.

Jared props himself on his elbows. A wicked grin chases his pout. "Will you punish me if I don't?"

"I might punish you either way," Jensen tells him. "I mean it, Jared. No touching. You don't get to come until I get back."

"Does this rule work both ways?"

"No. Chances are I'll be jerking off in the car before I get out of the driveway," Jensen answers bluntly and with no hint of apology.

"Not fair."

"Life's not fair." Jensen bends over to drop a kiss to Jared's forehead, to his mouth, brushes Jared's hair back from his face in a now-familiar motion. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

Before Jensen can turn to leave, Jared reaches up and pulls him in for one last lingering kiss.

"Have a good trip, you bossy son of a bitch."

"I'll call you later," Jensen promises.

"Don't even think about phone sex," Jared calls after him. "I won't be able to take it."

________

The first words out of Jeffrey Dean Morgan's mouth when Jensen meets him are, "Call me Jeff." Still, Jensen can't help but think of him as JeffreyDeanMorgan. It takes a conscious effort on his part not to say it altogether like that when he's speaking to the man directly.

Jeffrey Dean Morgan is a good looking man, and an interesting one. He's a little older, with a salt-and-pepper beard and a sometimes hang-dog expression that transforms easily into an open, mischievous smile. He's got a deep whiskey voice, dropped low and slow in a long Texas drawl. After their first long afternoon of negotiations, he takes Jensen out to 'this great little place' he knows where they serve southern style home cooking, including the best damn steak in Lubbock, and over a hundred different kinds of beer. The waiter seats them at a quiet booth in a low-lit back corner and they ask for bourbon instead.

They place their orders, steak for both and red wine for the table once the bourbon's gone. Then Jeffrey Dean Morgan gets right down to business.

"We didn't have a chance earlier, but there's something we need to address before we get down to the nitty-gritty of this deal in the morning," he says.

"What's that?"

"I know the trouble you ran into at OCOA."

Jensen nods, throws back a mouthful of bourbon, and sets the glass down with a thud.

"What do you know?"

Jeff’s relaxed - arm slung casually along the back of the booth - but he watches Jensen closely. "Samantha Ferris is a friend of mine."

Only the person who caught him in the single most humiliating moment of his life, then, Jensen thinks. Great.

"I see," he says slowly. "And she told you…?"

"That she caught you with your dick up some guy in the office, you got a slap on the wrist for it, then you turned tail and ran."

Jensen finds himself eased by Jeff's matter-of-fact tone. "That's an interesting take on it."

"Is there a different one?"

"Not really," Jensen admits. "Though I wouldn't say I turned tail and ran so much as I'd become a liability to myself and others."

The waiter returns with the wine; Jeff tests it and nods his approval. He continues to swirl it in the glass after the waiter leaves, his big, rough hand at odds with the delicate crystal and his own perfectly manicured nails. Jensen finishes off his bourbon in one long draw and reaches for the bottle to pour a glass.

"She said you weren't fired."

"That's true. I was suspended, but I knew they'd probably take me back if I waited it out." Jensen decides on a generic version of the truth. "I had a lot of personal stuff going on at the time. It was good for me to get away from Dallas for a while."

"She says they still miss you there. Told me I'd be as stupid as she's always suspected if I wasted the chance to bring you on board."

Jensen’s surprised. "That's nice of her. I thought she hated me."

The fine lines around Jeff’s eyes deepen with his smile and Jensen's brought up again by just how handsome the man is.

"Samantha doesn't do nice. She does honest."

"And what else does she do?" Jensen teases, relaxing into the conversation.

"That's none of your damn business, boy," Jeff says with a wink.

If there's such a thing as kiss and tell without the tell, Jeffrey Dean Morgan just accomplished it and Jensen responds with a laugh.

"Well, I guess that answers one question," he says, shaking his head.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"What team you're on. I had a running bet with a friend of mine, based on your picture on the website." It hadn’t been a bet so much as a running joke between him and Jared, who’d taken one look at Jeff’s picture and commented on his obvious ‘daddy’ appeal.

Jeff's laugh is big and booms like thunder, drawing the notice of half the restaurant. He throws his head back and claps his hands together before returning his attention to Jensen.

"I’ll take your curiosity as the compliment it clearly is," he says. "Though I'd think my four ex-wives might give you a good idea of my orientation."

If a good looking man, gay or not, is up for a little harmless flirting, Jensen's not one to say no. "I'm told sexual orientation is fluid."

Jeff slaps his hand on the table. "I'll let you know if the current ever flows in your direction."

Jensen raises his glass to that. "Please do."

The waiter returns with their food. When he walks away and Jeff gestures toward him as if to indicate that he might be on Jensen's team, Jensen shakes his head. Jeff's not wrong. The waiter is definitely on his team, and he's easy on the eyes, but Jensen couldn't be less interested.

"Listen," Jeff says as they dig into their meal. "I didn't bring up what happened before at OCOA to make you uncomfortable."

"I realize that."

"This business is my baby. I take it very personally, and I need to know that if the chips are down, you'll stick with me."

Jensen nods. "You can count on me."

"Good. Enough said." Jeff brings the matter to a close with a broad grin and a raised glass, which Jensen meets with his own.

They go quiet while they attack the steaks with single-minded focus before Jeff speaks again.

"So, you're single?"

"No," Jensen answers without thinking. "I mean, I'm with somebody but we haven't known each other long. It's temporary."

Jeff waves a dismissive hand. "It's been my experience that most relationships are."

"Four ex-wives, huh?"

"Yeah, just the four," Jeff answers with a grin. "Three wasn't a charm, and four turned out to be more than my heart could handle."

"Marriage isn't an issue in my case."

"Not in Texas, it isn't."

Jensen shrugs. "I doubt I'd be the type, anyway."

"Right. You go for temporary."

"Tried permanent," Jensen admits. "Didn't do too well with it."

"And Mr. Temporary?"

"I’m sorry?"

"The current somebody who isn't permanent," Jeff clarifies with an air of are you simple, boy? "How's that going?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jensen’s reluctant to answer. He’s not in the habit of sharing his personal business with anyone but Jared, and even that’s a recent development.

"Humor me," Jeff says. "I watched wife number four get remarried last weekend and I'm feeling maudlin about love."

"Love?" Jensen repeats. "I don't know about that. We're having a good time."

Jeff only nods and they finish the meal in silence. After a while, he pushes back his empty plate and pours another glass of wine. "So, how'd you manage to meet another gay guy way out in the country?" He asks.

"We're not confined to major metropolitan areas anymore."

"Fine. Go on."

"What can I say? He showed up at my place. Moved in three days later."

That earns a raised eyebrow. Jensen doesn't elaborate.

"You gays do know how to move things along."

It's said with too much good humor for Jensen to take offense. He nods instead, thinks about Jared, and smiles. "It's been good," he says. "We’re having a good time. I like him a lot."

"I can tell."

"You can?"

"Oh, yeah. And you seem a little down about the word temporary. You sure that’s what it is?"

"Pretty sure." Jensen doesn't want to think about what an open book he's become, decides to blame it on the bourbon and the big meal, maybe the easy company. "He doesn't like to stay in one place for long, not that I’d ask him. I have a bad track record."

Jeff leans in, his gaze more intense than Jensen’s seen it. "Don't let a bad track record hold you back, man," he says before falling back into the booth seat to resume his casual fuck-all pose. "If I did that, I'd have missed out on wife number four and she was a hell of a good time."

________

The next two days at JDM, Inc. involve lawyers on both sides, hours of negotiations, and finally a partnering agreement that seems to make everyone happy. Jensen agrees to sign over the ranch property to secure his investment. His insistence on keeping the house and the plot of land it sits on is a sticking point, but he wins out in the end. JDM, Inc. gets nearly four-hundred acres of prime wind farm real estate, and Jensen Ackles keeps the family home.

He doesn't intend to live there, Jensen's clear about that. He's moving back to Dallas in the summer to pursue the next step, using his contacts in the industry to bring in new business. Big oil likes to play around with clean energy and claim it for good PR, and nobody knows better than Jensen how to play that game.

It's almost eight o'clock when everything is finalized and the drive from Lubbock to the ranch takes over three hours. Jensen should probably accept Jeff’s offer to meet him and the other partners for some celebratory drinks before returning to the hotel to crash for an extra night. Truth is, he's anxious to see Jared. He doesn't think twice before turning them down, only shrugs in response to Jeff’s knowing look, and sets out for the drive home.

His mind is going a mile a minute, filled with plans - calls to make, various installations needed on the property, his move to Dallas. Jensen Ackles is back in business, and it feels as if a part of his brain that's been dormant for over a year is coming back to life. The buzz is electric.

Still, it isn't enough to keep his mind off Jared. Maybe it's the adrenaline rush of a business deal gone good. Maybe it's the fact that when he left Jared the other day Jensen was still sporting a hard on that could bend steel. Hell, maybe he just misses Jared's fucking dimples, that crazy smile that takes over his whole face, his full-body laugh that gets Jensen going like nothing else.
Whatever the reason, Jensen's horny as hell. It's pretty much all he can do to keep the speed under eighty on the way home, and that's just because he doesn't want to waste the time it would take for an officer to write up a speeding ticket.

It's well past ten when Jensen stops in Dumas to fill up the tank and take a piss. There are just a few miles between him and the ranch, but most of them are down gravel roads that need to be taken slow. He knows what he wants when he gets there; as he pulls out of the station, Jensen puts his cell on speaker to dial the house.

Jared answers on the second ring and doesn't bother with hello. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, I'm about thirty minutes out."

"Good. See you then."

Jensen barks out his name to stall him hanging up. "Jared."

"Yeah?"

Jensen grips the wheel and pitches his voice low.

"Get yourself ready for me."

There's silence from the other end of the line. If Jared needs further instruction, Jensen's willing to give it, but it doesn’t prove necessary.

"Sure thing, boss," Jared says, the words dragged out and ragged. "I'll be ready."

Jensen pulls up to the house thirty minutes later and lets himself in through the mud room. Jared's nowhere to be seen but lights are on throughout parts of the house - kitchen, hallway, bedroom - like a well-lit path to guide him in. He hears the shower running from the master bathroom and starts to work loose the buttons of his dress shirt. The water is shut off as he walks into the bedroom, and the bathroom door swings open before Jensen can reach it. Jared steps out, still wet and flushed from the steamed heat, wrapped in a towel he grips loosely in one hand.

"You're back," he says with a broad grin. "I was hoping to be finished before you got here, meet you at the door in my birthday suit."

"It's a nice suit." Jensen leers with intent and stalks Jared as he peels off his shirt. He lets his gaze roam over Jared's body, doesn't give a fuck about the water that's dripping onto the carpet, just wants to lick him dry, doesn't want to take the time.

"I did what you said." Maybe it's still just the heat of the shower but Jensen thinks he sees a blush steal across Jared's chest, up his shoulders to his neck. "I'm ready."

"Yeah, you work yourself open for me in the shower, Jared?"

Jared nods and swallows hard. "I did."

"How'd that go?" Jensen steps forward to finger the towel at Jared's waist.

"Umm. Fine, I guess?"

Jensen watches a single drop of water fall from Jared's hair, hit his shoulder and make its way down his chest in a long slide. He gives into impulse and leans in to lick it, sucking the water onto his tongue with a moan. Jared's breath hitches and he lets the towel drop; it glides through Jensen's hand and onto the floor as Jared reaches out to undo the button of Jensen's slacks and unzips his fly.

"I want to know." Jensen jerks his pants down, along with his briefs and his socks, and works them off, moves in close to Jared to soak up the hot, humid bulk of him. The thought of Jared in the shower, pushing his fingers into himself, is motivation Jensen absolutely does not need. But he wants to know so bad he can taste it.

"God, Jensen." Jared leans in to claim a kiss, but Jensen pulls back to look him in the eye, licks his lips, and leans in to whisper close.

"How many fingers?"

Jared huffs out a breath, half laugh, half groan. "Three."

"Yeah? I'm impressed."

"Mmm. I was thinking about how big and thick your cock is," Jared says. "How good it's going to feel inside."

"You slicked up for me?"

"Yes." There's a tremor in Jared's voice and his cock presses hard against Jensen's stomach; he's strung out and ready for it, and Jensen is done holding back, doesn’t think he’s even capable anymore. He curls a hand around Jared's nape and pulls him in to press their lips together in a soft, open kiss, sucking Jared's tongue into his mouth. He walks him to the bed and drops him to his back to stand over him.

"Been thinking about this," he murmurs. He runs his hands along Jared's thighs, pushing them apart as he lays down over him. "Haven't been able to think of anything else but how good it's going to feel."

"Fuck me." Jared draws up one leg to wrap around Jensen, high on his waist.

There's a part of Jensen that thinks of taking this slow, regrets even in the moment that they're both so hungry and desperate that it can only go fast and hard. It's been so long since he's buried himself in somebody, and this is so much more than that. This is Jared. But it's too late for slow this time. Hell, he’s just grateful they both got tested last month at the clinic in Dumas so he doesn’t have to mess with a condom.

Jensen anchors himself over Jared, propped on one arm, and positions his cock against Jared’s hole to push in. There’s a moment when he tries in vain to slow it down, but Jared's so ready, there's only the slightest resistance when Jensen breaches the strong ring of muscle, then he's inside, pushing in smooth and fast, practically pulled in by the slick heat. He bottoms out in one long, steady motion and Jared throws his head back with a loud moan.

Jensen reaches between them to stroke one hand over Jared's hard cock, dips in closer and feels it push up against his stomach as he uses every ounce of self-control to still himself, giving Jared time to adjust.

"Come on," Jared growls out. "I can take it."

Jensen smiles at him, drops down over him like a blanket and kisses him, pulls back and pumps in, fast and hard, deep.

"Yes, there. That's it," Jared pants out.

Jensen stills for a drawn out moment before rolling his hips and pulling back, then rocking in to hit that spot again.

They don't last long. Jared goes rigid beneath him, wraps his arms around Jensen tight when he comes, his breath heavy and erratic against Jensen’s skin. Jensen nips at the warm flesh of Jared's shoulder, right at the tender curve of his neck. He feels the pulse there as his body tenses, his balls pulling in tight, and comes with reflexive movements, thrusting hard.

Afterward, Jensen doesn't move right away, falls there in a heap over Jared instead, presses his mouth against Jared's in a closed-mouth kiss, almost chaste, before licking his way inside. It's like stepping off a roller coaster, the punch-drunk feeling of coming back down to earth from the most exhilarating high. Jensen smiles against Jared's lips, pulls away to gaze down at him, and lets his expression tell the story of how good he feels, how happy. Jared grins back and slaps his ass in a lazy movement before resting his hand there to hold Jensen close.

It feels like a good, long while before Jensen pulls out and moves to his side with an exhausted sigh. When Jared rolls out of bed, Jensen thinks he may be walking out the door, but he heads to the bathroom to clean up instead.

"I'm staying here tonight," Jared calls over his shoulder. "And no bitching about how I take up the whole bed and snore like a fucking cow. After the pounding I just took, you owe me."

Jensen's more than happy for Jared to stay, so he just takes the opportunity to slide under the covers and flop into his usual position on his stomach. Jared keeps the bathroom light on and walks back to bed to get in behind him. He flings one arm over Jensen's back and Jensen shifts into the loose embrace, stroking one lazy finger over Jared's hand.

He looks across the room for the first time and sees a couple of big cardboard boxes on the floor by the dresser. One of them is open and pinwheels overflow the top. Dozens of little multi-colored, plastic pinwheels.

"Oh, my God," Jensen says, exhaling a surprised laugh. "Where did you find those?"

Jared hums a sigh against his neck. "They were in the attic. There's more, too. Must be hundreds."

"I can't believe he kept them. Well, I guess I can."

"I take it there's a story there?"

Memories flow through Jensen in a warm, pleasant rush - Grandpa Miller taking all of them, his grandchildren plus his great-nieces and nephews, to the feed store when they were kids. They sold pinwheels for a nickel each by the register and he'd buy them all a new one each time they went. When they returned home, he allowed the kids to plant them in the yard, little wheels of color all pretty in a row. There must have been a dozen or more in the yard at any given time, spinning away in the near-constant breeze that blows across the ridge. Grandma went out to clear them away periodically, muttering about kids' toys ruining her yard.

"Not much of one," Jensen says. "Just my grandfather."

Jared gives him a light squeeze. "I found them tonight, in the attic," he says. "Moved them in here after you called because I didn't have time to drag them to the barn."

"I'm glad you did."

"You're kind of sentimental, you know that, Ackles?"

"Must be old age."

Jared drops a kiss to his shoulder and huffs a warm breath to the back of his neck. "Feel pretty spry to me, old man."

________

Things get busy, fast, and life picks up more speed than Jensen likes to consider. Jared's left with almost all the work around the ranch; even after they unload forty head of cattle later that month, he's got a lot on his hands. The remainder of the herd is rotated closer to the house which makes things a little easier, but the weather rarely gives them a break. Winter snow and ice gives way to cold rain and tornado warnings that luckily don't amount to much.

Jensen spends most of his time on business. A crew arrives to ready the property for the wind farm it will support. Aside from setting up his own place, he has some selling to do to other land owners in the area. He figures Chris is his easiest bet and starts with him. Chris's farm is doing well, but he's concerned about providing for his growing family; the extra money he can bring in from leasing land to JDM is a temptation. Jared helps bring Jeannie around to the idea. The woman is indeed formidable, especially so in her third trimester, but Jared has a way with her. Jensen teases him about being the woman behind the man who made it happen. He gets a swat on the ass and a hickey on his neck for that one.

When Jim Beaver shows up to talk business and commits to twenty turbines on his land, Jensen knows he's in. Nobody in the area garners more respect than Jim. Not only will others follow his lead, but any concerns that remain about zoning and permits can pretty much be swept away under his influence. When Jensen asks what brought him around, Jim answers money, but as he's leaving, he admits there's more to it.

"I was in considerable debt when I started my farm," he tells Jensen. "Your grandparents were good to me. Your grandfather was one of the best men I ever met."

"He was that," Jensen agrees.

"I didn't always think you had it in you to follow in his footsteps. You're a different kind of man, but I see a lot of your grandfather in you these days."

Jensen fights an unexpected wave of emotion. God, he really is becoming a sentimental fool. "Thank you, sir."

Jim pats him on the shoulder, swallows a cough that sounds like it might be the result of some sentimentality as well. "I trust you to treat us right with this deal, son."

"You have my word," Jensen says and means it. As much as he wants to turn a profit, and as excited as he is about returning to Dallas with a win under his belt, he finds himself equally concerned with taking care of the locals. They're his grandparents' people, so they're his people, too.

________

They fall into a routine over the weeks and months. Jensen finds he's suited to life with Jared. It's not without the occasional bump in the road, but they enjoy each other's company. His only other relationship was with Paul and it always seemed there were rules to getting it right, even before he fucked it all to hell. It's easier with Jared. Jensen wonders if that's helped by the fact that there's no one around to tempt him and a built-in expiration date that keeps Jared from getting restless. Mostly, he's enjoying himself too much to worry about it.

Jensen's able to sell off the rest of the herd in late March. Even Delilah is sold off to Chris and Jeannie. It's good, Jared says, that she's going to family.

As much of a relief as it is to be done with the ranching part of the ranch, it makes Jensen hyperaware that things will soon come to a close. The auction's set for the first week of June; when it’s done, he's heading to Dallas and a downtown high-rise condo that's already signed for, sight unseen.

Jared starts talking about his plans for New York; or as much planning as Jared does, anyway. A guy he knew in Las Vegas who moved to Brooklyn a year or so ago has offered Jared a place to stay. Jared figures he'll take the guy up on it and worry about the rest when he gets there. Jensen manages to smile when Jared says, "Gotta give New York a try, right? At least once."

He doesn't think of asking him to stay, not really. Jared moves on - it's just what he does - and Jensen's got a bad fucking track record. He's not like Jeff; the idea of trying and failing again, with ‘wife’ number two, three, or four, isn’t for him. Maybe he only had one serious relationship in him, and he blew it up good. It's best to keep this thing temporary and end it well, rather than carrying on too long and going through that again.

________

Late spring brings beautiful blue skies and golden-brown and green grass that sways in the breeze. Sometimes the wind stirs up hard, but it doesn't bother Jensen like it used to. There's a profit in it now, maybe that's what takes the sting out. As he stands on the porch, smoking his evening cigarette and watching the sun set over the thriving land, he thinks maybe Grandpa Miller was right about the view.

Jared joins him, walks up behind, and pulls him back into a loose embrace. Jensen leans into it and they watch together.

"That never stops being beautiful, does it?"

Jensen hmms a lazy response and grinds out his cigarette as Jared nuzzles his neck.

"You know, I just realized today that it's May," Jared says.

"For three days straight."

"Funny how that works," Jared says, all aw, shucks. "Jeannie and Chris have a May Day baby, and the auction's in less than a month."

Less than a month. Jensen hadn't thought of that. Suddenly, he feels the deadline closing in too fast.

"You still leaving for your parents' the day after?" He asks, mostly to have something to say.

"That's the plan. First San Antone for a couple of weeks, then New York City."

Jensen turns in Jared's arms, pulls himself up to the balls of his feet, and lands a light kiss somewhere near the side of Jared's mouth before drawing him in for a closer embrace. The only thing he can think to do is make the most of the time they have left. Letting go feels like the long slow pull of a loose string from a favorite shirt that unravels, inch by inch, until everything comes apart.

Sex for them started as a denial of something desperate and hungry. Over the months, it became second nature, like breathing. Now it becomes something else, something meaningful and precious in a way that Jensen can't remember ever feeling. When he took his time before, or when he sped things up, held Jared down soft and took him hard, it was about getting off, it was about how fucking hot it is to exert some measure of control over such a big man. It was what he needed to work through whatever bullshit he still had to work through.

In their last month together, they both take their time. Jensen wants to commit it to memory, find some way to never let it go. When they lose control, going at it fast and hard because they can't hold back, there's an edge to it. More often, they take it slow and easy, like an old married couple already settled in a routine that brings as much comfort as anything else.

"Just think," Jensen says one night; he's draped across Jared as sweat cools on their skin. "In a few weeks, we'll both be in a position to order take out again."

"Back to civilization." Jared sounds happy. "I think I'll gorge myself on Chinese out of the carton for a month."

"There's this great Italian place in Dallas that delivers. I may have dreamed about it once or twice."

"So, that's what you were mumbling in your sleep," Jared says. "I thought those were my spicy meatballs you were dreaming about."

Jensen groans. "Wow. That was bad."

"I know, right? I'm awesome."

Jensen looks up at Jared and graces him with an eye-roll that can't be missed, even in the dark.

"Come on, you miss my fantastic comic stylings already, admit it."

"That's one thing I won't miss," Jensen says. Maybe it's a lie.

Jared lets out a disbelieving grunt. "Well, whatever, you'll be too busy taking Dallas by storm to think of anything else."

"I'll definitely be busy," Jensen says. "It might be all I can do to remember your name, much less your spicy meatballs."

"If I believed that, my feelings might be hurt."

"Don't believe it." Jensen smiles and burrows closer, tired and lazy, already half asleep. "I'll definitely never forget."

Jared draws him in closer as they drift off to sleep.

________

As a child, Jensen often saw his grandfather writing in his journal, usually after dinner when Jensen was preoccupied with TV, but he never thought much of it. Jared finds the journals in an old trunk and brings Jensen out to the barn to go through them. There's a part of Jensen that doesn't want to pry, feels it's disrespectful to the old man. But there's an even greater part of him that's curious, and he ends up spending the better part of three days putting everything else on hold to read through them.

The Millers married young and worked hard. There was no grand moment when life became anything but a struggle, but Grandpa Miller didn't waste much space on that. He wrote instead about his love for the land. He marked his disappointment, too - when they lost their first ranch, and how he worried about having a child on the way with money so low. But he used many more words to express the joy and the hope of their life together. He worked as a hired hand for other people while Grandma Miller got a job at the grocery store in town until they saved up enough to build their home on the hill and start again. The pride he felt when he brought his wife and young daughter here fills pages.

There's some pretty god-awful poetry in there as well. Jensen can hear his grandmother's voice in his head, "Lord save us all from your grandfather and his so-called poetry." But the old man would invariably take the opportunity to loosen the knot on her apron, causing her to swat at his arm and laugh quietly, a gentle smile on her face that she saved for family.

Jensen gathers the journals and the photos, the old family china, and some of grandma's mementos to ship home to his mom. Maybe it's something they can go through together when he returns to Dallas. He thinks she'll like that.

________

Things don't get awkward until about a week before the auction, and awkward might not be the right word even then. Jensen knows he's developed a bad habit of watching Jared out of the corner of his eye then glancing away quickly when Jared looks over to catch him staring. But maybe he only imagines that Jared does the same. Conversation narrows until it's almost exclusively about the auction and the construction crew.

They save more honest communication for the bedroom, but that's different, too. Jensen can feel Jared letting go even as he rises up to meet him, kisses him earnestly and gives everything. For his own part, Jensen handles Jared's body, with hands and tongue and lips, the soft, sweaty movement of flesh on flesh, with a certain reverence. It’s amazing in a way, feels better than anything he can remember, just as he's about to let it go.

There's sadness but no regret. If Jared hadn't shown up at his doorstep, Jensen's not sure where he'd be. Maybe on day four of not talking to another living soul and drinking the numbness away at The Keyhole for want of better plans. He's glad for where he's come, happy to be returning to Dallas to face up to whatever is left to be faced. And he can't fault Jared for going to New York. That's who Jared is and it's what he needs. If Jensen has been half as good for Jared as Jared’s been for him, that’s an accomplishment he’s as proud of as anything.

________

Jensen wakes up early on the morning of the auction and rolls out from under Jared's heavy arm as quietly as he can. It's going to be a busy day, and he wants Jared to sleep in as long as possible. The man worked late into the night to finish the set-up, sending Jensen off to bed at midnight with an irritated growl, "I've got this, Ackles."

Coffee and a toasted English Muffin, a half hour or so at the computer to answer emails, and Jensen's as ready as he's going to be for the long day ahead. Jeffrey Dean Morgan's coming in. It's a good opportunity for him to check on the turbines and meet some of his new clients in the area. That'll be enough to keep Jensen hopping all day, as if the auction itself wasn't enough.

Jensen steps onto the porch, holding a hand over his eyes to shield them from the light of the sunrise reflecting off the tin barn. It takes a moment to adjust; when he does, he stops short and laughs in surprise.

Planted in the yard, just like when he was a kid, are pinwheels. There are at least a couple of hundred and the light catches on them, all the faded colors of the rainbow. They spin in the breeze with a low, pleasant hum. Jensen walks out, stands in the middle of this new plastic garden, and takes it in, feeling the full force of his youth and everything he's leaving behind.

"Damn it, Jensen. I wanted to be with you when you first saw it."

He looks up at the sound of Jared's voice to find him watching through tired, puffy eyes. He’s dressed in low-slung sweat pants and nothing else but bedhead and a big grin.

"I should have guessed you didn't stay up that late to do anything like real work," Jensen says with a laugh.

Jared steps off the porch to join him, crossing his arms over his chest to stave off the chill. "The auction's gonna go off without a hitch. Don't you worry about that."

Jensen makes his way around the maze of pinwheels to stand closer. "I'm not worried." He curls a hand around Jared's nape and pulls him down gently for a kiss, laughing into it. "I can't believe you did this. It's amazing."

"You can't believe I did something amazing?" Jared pulls Jensen in close, maybe for warmth as much as anything.

"That I can believe," Jensen assures him, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. He scratches his fingers through Jared's hair. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, let's get going before everybody shows up and catches us making out in a field of pinwheels, 'cause that's just about the gayest thing I've ever heard."

________

Jim Beaver laughs for a good two minutes when he sees the yard, pats Jared on the back, and tells Jensen that Grandma Miller would have been fit to be tied. Jensen laughs with him, happy to share the memory.

It's not long before the cars start lining up, neighbors and people from surrounding counties coming in to pick through everything and test out the equipment before the bidding starts. Jeff shows up and Jensen introduces him around, letting the man work his charm on a few of the hold-outs.

When Jeff meets Jared, he looks over to Jensen with raised eyebrows and an exaggerated thumbs up. Jensen just shakes his head when Jared gives Jeff a similar silent seal of approval. It's a good thing they don't have time to join forces against him.

The auction is a success. Jensen pulls in about as much as expected. He's happier about the profit that Chris and Jeannie take in for the old combine they brought over to include in the sell. Jeannie's out for the first time since the birth of their daughter, Gemma, and the infant girl is right at home among the crowd. Jared dotes on her, running back and forth from the auction to the porch where she spends much of the day asleep in her mother's arms. It's sweet to see and Jensen finds himself wondering if Jared might miss her enough to return to Texas more often in the future.

Night's falling by the time everybody leaves. Jeff’s their last guest and Jensen offers him a room for the night, but he quirks a brow at that, cuts his gaze to Jared, and says he's got a room in Dumas.

Jeff extends a hand to Jared. "I hear you're heading to New York soon."

"Yes," Jared says. "I’m looking forward to it."

Jeff holds the handshake as he searches Jared's eyes. "Good," he says just before the moment goes on too long for comfort. "I hope it works out for you."

He turns to Jensen with a mock salute as he steps back toward his car. "Talk to you tomorrow, Jensen."

"See you then."

________

They say their goodbyes late into the night, in murmured words and long, slow kisses. Both are bone tired and it slows them down, but it doesn't stop them from making the most of their last night together. Their gazes lock and hold as Jensen takes Jared one last time, pushing into him, bodies pressed in close as he rides him slow. Normally, they roll over and go to sleep right after. This time, they stay pressed together in silence, kissing deep and wet, neither willing to let go until the early pre-dawn hours when they drift to sleep in each other's arms.

Jared rises early, after only a couple of hours' sleep. "I've gotta get the last of my stuff together," he murmurs in Jensen's ear before slipping out of the room. Jensen rolls over and falls back to sleep for a while. He hunts Jared down as soon as he's awake to find him loading the truck with the last of his things.

"You coming back in for breakfast before you leave?"

Jared's turned away, facing the truck with his head bowed; he takes a minute to answer.

"No, I'd better be on my way. I’ll get something on the road."

"Come back in for a while." Jensen places a hand on Jared's arm, maybe to pull him in, anchor him close. Maybe to steady himself. "You have plenty of time."

Jared turns to him, big fake smile plastered on his face. "I really need to get on the road, boss."

Jensen nods and tries to school his features into something calm and easy. "Yeah, I understand. When you gotta go, you gotta go."

"It's a skill."

Jensen nods, looks around, thinks this is where we met, next to this ugly truck, and pushes Jared up against it, kissing him hard. Jared melts into it, pulling Jensen in and holding him close. They break the kiss to pull each other tight, ending it with a big, bone-crushing bear hug and a choked, "Take care."

When Jared drives away, Jensen stands for a good five minutes watching the dust stir up under the wheels of his truck; it hangs in the air for a while before settling back down into the road. He heads into the house to start his day alone.

part four